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Once Upon a Monster: A Fairy Tale
by MJ
mjr91@aol.com
A long time ago, children, so far back even the old man down the lane doesn't know when it was, there was a very small kingdom ruled by a very tall king, who was known as King Jonathan, mostly because that was his name. He was sometimes called King Jonathan the Explorer, because he went to many odd places when he had the chance, and ate many strange foods, often without becoming violently ill. He lived in a fairly new palace that was rather gray, and could, he thought, have had much higher ceilings. King Jonathan lived there with his best friend Prince Trip, who liked to build things, and with pretty Princess Hoshi, who liked to study things, and with his faithful squire Sir Travis the Silent, who liked to go places and do things, but who always had trouble when he ran into rocks in his path.
King Jonathan was very tall, of course, and had lots of muscles, and big green eyes, and Princess Hoshi wanted him to be called King Jonathan the Cute, but the king thought that was undignified. Anyway, this is a story about King Jonathan, and about what happened in his kingdom, and how it was saved, and the beautiful princess who got married, but not to him. And it has a happy ending so you won't have any bad dreams tonight, I promise.
His kingdom was a happy place, small though it was, and bats flew about and eels squirmed freely, particularly near the workshop of the royal physician, Dr. Phlox, who kept bats in his belfry. He and the royal soothsayer, T'Pol, a strange woman with the skin of a gypsy and the ears of an oversized elf, provided King Jonathan with their advice and counsel regularly, whether the king wanted it or not.
The only blight on the horizon of the happy little kingdom of King Jonathan, son of King Henry the Inventor, was that it was frequently invaded by dragons and other monsters. Not only had King Jonathan's exploring brought the kingdom riches and lots of odd foods, but it had also attracted the attention of other kingdoms' monsters, who might otherwise have stayed home and terrorized their own domains. And this problem would not have been so bad, were it not for the awful fact that the knights of the kingdom, brave and strong though they were, were simply not strong enough nor wily enough to defeat the evil monsters that occasionally passed through the kingdom.
One day, as Dr. Phlox was binding King Jonathan's wounds after a particularly nasty skirmish with two mating dragons, the king groaned to his friend Prince Trip, "I am brave and strong, and you are very brave if only somewhat strong, and our knights are rather brave but fairly wimpy. This isn't working."
Dr. Phlox, hearing the king's lament, said wisely if unasked, "Why not just bring the bravest, strongest knight in Christendom to defend the kingdom?"
"Because," the king explained, "maybe there's a Jewish knight who's better."
"Or a Muslim knight," Prince Trip considered.
"Or a Buddhist one," Princess Hoshi added helpfully, having just studied all about such things.
"Then," Dr. Phlox suggested cheerily, waving an eel about his treatment room, "hire the strongest, bravest knight in the entire world."
"How do we find him?" asked King Jonathan.
"I just saw something about that in a copy of 'Rulers and Dictators Monthly'," Prince Trip said. "You can advertise in 'Knights and Heroes Quarterly' for three issues at the two-issue rate. And it mentioned there's a standard contract for that kind of job."
"You think you could dig that up for me?" the king asked. So Prince Trip set down his sketch for a new drawbridge across the moat and found the king's magazine.
"Pretty steep fees there," the king said after reviewing the standard contract.
"Yeah," Prince Trip agreed, "but it's negotiable, kinda."
And so the king placed an advertisement, which Princess Hoshi worded carefully for him: "Wanted—strongest, bravest knight in the world to protect King Jonathan the Explorer's kingdom from all manner of unknown monsters. Standard contract offered. Apply at palace."
For months, would-be contenders arrived at the palace gates. Some of them were rejected immediately, like Sir Freddy the Befuddled, who, though very strong, had run cowering from King Jonathan's pet beagle, Porthos. Another, Sir Timothy the Odd, had attempted to skewer Dr. Phlox, under the distinct impression that he was a giant troll. And Sir Zoltan the Unstoppable, though brave and certainly quick, had proved too weak to lift T'Pol's copy of the secret book of wisdom, written by a philosopher named Surak. Admittedly it was a very large book, but even Princess Hoshi could lift it with ease and carry it under one arm.
Then, one day, while King Jonathan was reviewing Prince Trip's newest inspiration for a drawbridge lever which would not rust, the doors of his throne room were flung wide open. In strode a rather short but very handsome dark-haired man in full court dress, with a sword that made Prince Trip blush. The man bowed low, then rose and announced, "Here I am, when would you like me to get started?"
King Jonathan looked at the man with alarm. "Who are you and how did you get in here?"
"Oh. Excuse me. Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Sir Malcolm the Rather Short But Terribly Clever and Good-looking. And I got here by coshing your drawbridge guards, swimming your moat, killing both of your crocodiles and a couple of piranhas, ambushing the palace guard, tying up and gagging the throne room guards, drying myself off, fixing my hair a bit, and putting on dry clothing I'd brought across in a waterproof bag. Then I walked in, and here I am. I'd have been here sooner but I stopped for a bite of lunch after I ambushed the palace guard."
King Jonathan turned to the very clever Princess Hoshi, who wrote better than he did. "He's hired. You ready to start writing the contract?"
"It's the standard contract," Prince Trip added. "Five year commitment. First successful mighty deed gets you half the royal treasury, second one gets you half the kingdom, third gets you your choice of bride." At that, Princess Hoshi waved politely at the handsome stranger with the compellingly large sword.
Sir Malcolm blinked his gray-blue eyes thoughtfully, then looked over at King Jonathan. "I'm not crazy about the third clause but we can talk about it later. I hear you need to be ridded of a monster or two pretty quickly." He grasped his sword firmly with a motion that made both Princess Hoshi and Prince Trip gulp. The king had failed to notice it, however, because he was too busy trying to decide just what shade Sir Malcolm's eyes really were, an activity that looked rather like outright staring to anyone else, and which caused Sir Malcolm to blink again, an action that to anyone looking on at the scene appeared more like batting his eyelashes. "Now, your majesty, is there anything I can do for you?"
King Jonathan swallowed back the first answer that came to his mind and replied, "We have a big nasty-looking monster invading us, kind of green and scaly and it disjoints itself to slither around and make trouble. My soothsayer T'Pol tells me it's called a suliban, and I want it gone."
Sir Malcolm nodded and clutched his sword again, which the king noticed this time, and which caused both the king and Prince Trip to cross their legs edgily and fiddle with their robes. "Very good, your majesty. If your squire could help me suit up, I should be back with the suliban's head in time for dinner."
King Jonathan and Prince Trip were both of a mind to tell Sir Malcolm that they would happily help him with his armor themselves, but neither was quite brave enough to suggest it. They were both brave, of course, but every man has his limits. And to suggest that kind of thing to someone you have just met who kills crocodiles and piranhas on a swim to a job interview is beyond the limits of intelligent people's bravery, children, and don't you forget it.
So brave, clever, and very dangerous Sir Malcolm immediately set off to kill the suliban, as Princess Hoshi ran after him waving an embroidered handkerchief. "It's for good luck," she told him.
"Thank you." Sir Malcolm tied the token to his shield. When he turned back, he saw the princess looking at his sword again. Mistaking her interest, he told her, "When I get back, I can give you lessons."
That hadn't been what was on Princess Hoshi's mind, but Princess Hoshi loved to learn things. And the king and Prince Trip seemed to have all the fun, going out and slaying dragons while she stayed in the palace and read. "Would you? No one ever offered before."
"Of course," he told her. "Let me take care of this business and we'll start tomorrow or as soon as I'm in one piece, whichever comes first."
And so Sir Malcolm the Rather Short And All That rode off towards the south, looking for the trail of the sneaky and evil suliban.
Dinner had already started when the royal heralds began blasting on their trumpets so loudly that Prince Trip's between-course harmonica solo was completely drowned out. The smallest herald ran to Sir Travis and whispered in his ear. "Your majesty," Sir Travis said, speaking for the first time, "Sir Malcolm is returning with the suliban's head on his shield."
"He's a bit late, isn't he?" the king said, secretly quite impressed with the accomplishment. He had spent two days trying to track the suliban himself, with no luck whatsoever. And when Sir Allen the Odiferous had tried to fight the suliban, he had wound up in Dr. Phlox's cottage for three days, covered with snails and other odd creatures that made him smell even worse than usual. "He said he'd be back for dinner."
"Dinner's not over," Prince Trip reminded King Jonathan. "I think Chef can scrape up a few extra servings of game hen, roast ox, grilled fish, and whatever this vegetable stuff of T'Pol's is for him. A man gets pretty hungry going off and killing a monster."
"Make a note, somebody," the king said as everyone hurried to make notes. "I have to take Sir Malcolm to the royal treasury tomorrow. Sir Travis, you'll come with us. We need to make sure Sir Malcolm gets his half of the treasury."
"Lotta money," Prince Trip said.
"We're getting our money's worth," said King Jonathan. "Fewer monsters, more trade and more tourists. We'll make it all back. And if we don't do it fast enough, I'll tax something. Make a note about inn taxes for overnight guests from out of the kingdom. The locals won't mind that one."
"Do you have to go to the treasury tomorrow?" Princess Hoshi asked. "Sir Malcolm was going to start my sword training tomorrow."
"You?" Prince Trip laughed. "You're too small, and you're a girl."
"I'll show you," she sniffed. "You just wait."
And so Sir Malcolm took home half the royal treasury and began teaching Princess Hoshi how to behead small dragons.
Life was peaceful and quiet in the kingdom, without the monster. The king took a trip with Sir Travis and T'Pol, looking to see what was on the other side of the Mysterious Mountains in the east. Prince Trip drew up a plan for a new waterworks while Sir Malcolm, who really was quite clever as well as gorgeous, it seemed, threw in a few suggestions. And when Princess Hoshi wasn't studying, she and Sir Malcolm practiced skewering bloodthirsty rocs.
Shortly after the king's return from the lands beyond the Mysterious Mountains, where he found many interesting peoples and very odd foods that had given him indigestion, and where Sir Travis encountered some more bothersome rocks, a new danger arose.
"T'Pol says it's called a klingon," the king told Sir Malcolm. It's brown and hairy and ridged and very ugly, and it's bloodthirsty. And apparently Sir Terry the Dim and Sir Jeffrey the Uncautious are both in Dr. Phlox's cottage being treated for their blood loss."
"This sounds even more dangerous than the suliban," Sir Malcolm the Rather Short and Yada, Yada said. "I think I need an assistant."
"Sir Travis is still recovering from his injuries," the king told him.
"Actually, I was thinking of Princess Hoshi," Sir Malcolm replied. "She's quite good with a sword now, and she might fit into my spare armor."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite."
"Little Hoshi?" Prince Trip asked, dropping his plans for a new windmill on the throne room floor. "She's scared of her own shadow."
Sir Malcolm shook his head. "Not since she killed the baby flying dragon that tried to steal Dr. Phlox's pet bat."
"Okay, you win."
And so brave and mighty Sir Malcolm, and sort of brave but careful Princess Hoshi, who called herself Princess Hoshi The Pretty Brave And Very Deadly in her imagination, set out to slay the bloodthirsty klingon.
Two days later they returned, the klingon's head on Sir Malcolm's shield, and its claws strung attractively as a necklace around Princess Hoshi's borrowed armor.
Princess Hoshi's arm was bandaged, as was Sir Malcolm's side, and a woman from the country rode behind them on a mule.
"This is Liz," Hoshi explained. "The klingon caught us in its claws before we killed it, and she lives on the farm near where we fought it. She took care of us afterwards and she helped me string the claws."
"We have to reward her, then," said the king. "Liz, how would you like to be the assistant to the royal physician?"
"Could she, please?" Princess Hoshi begged. Sir Malcolm noted that Princess Hoshi seemed even more excited by the prospect of Liz staying near the palace than she had been by the idea of the third clause in his contract, and he felt much better, indeed.
"I take back everything I said," Prince Trip told Hoshi. "Boy, you're pretty darn brave. Betcha you'll have some pretty cool battle scars now."
"Not if I can help it," Liz said. "I make a cream that heals up cuts and wounds so you can't tell anything ever happened. If I rub it on her arm for her twice a day for a week, she'll be as good as new."
"They're rather bad cuts," Princess Hoshi fussed to Liz. "How about four times a day for two weeks?" She looked at Liz beseechingly.
"Well…I could do that," Liz said to Princess Hoshi's chest.
The king looked thoughtfully at a map of the kingdom. "Any thoughts on where you want your half?"
Sir Malcolm looked at the map as well. "I like this section over here," he pointed. "But to be fair, I'll only take a third."
"Contract says half," Prince Trip reminded him. "And you got yerself pretty banged up."
"True," Sir Malcolm agreed, "but in all fairness, I couldn't have done it without Princess Hoshi's help. I'd like her to take the rest of my cut of the land."
"It's all farmland," said Prince Trip. "What'll she do with it?"
Sir Malcolm turned toward the princess, who was draping the claw necklace over Liz's neck. "Oh, I think she'll come up with something."
Months passed, and the kingdom was quiet and peaceful again. Prince Trip was busy, however, designing a small castle for Sir Malcolm's land. He was trying to build one small enough to suit Sir Malcolm, who was amazingly far from greedy or demanding, that was big enough for the very tall King Jonathan to visit. Finally, he compromised by planning a medium-sized one that was too large for Sir Malcolm's taste and too small for the king's, meaning it would certainly be just right when it was built.
Princess Hoshi was continuing with her sword practice, but had also developed the most surprising interest in studying plants. She spent hours at Dr. Phlox's cottage, helping Liz with her herbs. Sir Malcolm encouraged her interest in helping Liz as much as he could, since, as he explained to the king with a bat of his eyelashes—er, while blinking, it was always useful to have a fighter who knew how to take care of battle injuries immediately. And if he was thinking anything else, children, he didn't mention it to the king. Which is a good lesson, of course, that you shouldn't always say exactly what you are thinking.
The king, meanwhile, had begun working with T'Pol and Princess Hoshi, trying to write down the chronicles of some of his expeditions, leaving out as many episodes of bad foods and injuries to Sir Travis the Silent as he could.
Alas, this paradise was interrupted rudely one day, as the littlest herald burst into the throne room and threw himself down on the floor. "Your majesty, there's a fearsome monster out in the forest!"
"Again?" King Jonathan sighed. "What's this one look like?"
"We don't know, sire, no one can see it. We think it's invisible!"
T'Pol the soothsayer nodded gravely. "A romulan is loose in the woods, then. They are very, very dangerous, but they cannot be seen. No one has caught a romulan in known history."
The king rubbed his face. "Have any knights gone out to kill it yet?"
"No, sire," the herald said, shaking. "All of them are too afraid of the monster they cannot see. They are down at Sir Lucas the Drunken's manor, cowering in his wine cellar."
"You mean, they're drinking their way through it," Prince Trip grumbled.
"That too, Sir," the herald agreed. "They all say that no one but Sir Malcolm is brave enough to go out to slay the monster."
"I heard that," Sir Malcolm groused, walking into the throne room gripping his huge sword. The king, Prince Trip, and the herald all stared at the ceiling while Sir Malcolm adjusted the sword in his belt. "Go tell Princess Hoshi to get her armor and get ready to go looking for the romulan with me."
"Yes, Sir Malcolm, right away!" The smallest herald ran at his top speed to find Sir Malcolm's assistant.
"If it's invisible," Sir Malcolm told the king and Prince Trip, "this may take a few days. But we'll get the bugger, all right." He strode off, his hand running along his sword as the king and Prince Trip tried to avoid sweating while they watched.
A week later, the heralds blasted the loudest sounds the king had ever heard. Rushing to the throne room windows, he saw Sir Malcolm and Princess Hoshi riding side by side, their horses moving slowly under the burden of an obvious weight that could not be seen. The smallest herald ran back into the throne room.
"Your highness, Sir Malcolm and Princess Hoshi are bringing back the dead romulan! Should it be put on display?"
The king turned to Prince Trip. "Displaying an invisible monster? You figure that one out. I've got to call the royal musicians, Chef, and the royal tailors. I think it's wedding planning time."
Sir Malcolm and Princess Hoshi entered the throne room, armor clinking on both of them. "We got it," Sir Malcolm said to the king, while rather obviously checking out the king's new robes. "It's dead and rather smelly but we thought you might like to see it. I know Dr. Phlox would."
The king came down to embrace Sir Malcolm. "Thank you, Malcolm, you've certainly saved the kingdom yet again. Now, as for the third part of that contract, who would you like for your bride?" He looked over at Princess Hoshi, who was squirming uncomfortably.
"Princess Hoshi has the second best sword arm in the kingdom," Prince Trip volunteered.
Sir Malcolm began squirming now. "Really, your majesty, considering that Princess Hoshi is half-responsible for killing the romulan…"
"You're marrying her?" the king asked. "Naturally."
"No," Sir Malcolm said, living up to the Terribly Clever part of his name, "I mean that since she's half responsible, then, if she could share part of the land I got for helping to kill the klingon, she should get part of the deal here, too. And—ladies first and all that—I think she should figure out who she wants to marry before I pick someone."
The king sighed and stepped back. "You're right. Hoshi, do you have any thoughts on this? Besides marrying Sir Malcolm?"
Princess Hoshi nodded. "If I marry Sir Malcolm, it's going to be hard to keep on killing monsters with him, and I'd much rather do that. I'm good at it, and I like it. Besides, if anybody but Sir Malcolm had ever bothered to ask me…Liz and I are very happy together, thank you very much."
Prince Trip's jaw dropped. "Dr. Phlox's assistant?"
"You got it," Princess Hoshi said. "We want to start an herb farm on my land so Liz can grow more plants for Dr. Phlox to use."
"She gets to pick anybody she wants," Sir Malcolm said. "Sorry," he shrugged.
"Wait a minute," Prince Trip gulped. "We're kinda short on really eligible women in this kingdom, so unless you're planning on T'Pol, who'd kill ya first, or one of Sir Roger the Prolific's daughters, who are all pretty young…"
Sir Malcolm began stripping off his gauntlets. "I said I had an issue with the third clause in the bloody contract, but I had to go out and chase the bloody suliban thingum before I could negotiate it, didn't I? Standard third clause doesn't quite cut it for me, I'm afraid," he said, looking over the very tall and extremely muscular King Jonathan with frank interest. "Princess Hoshi's a wonderful person and a fine swordswoman, but as she says, I'd much rather chase dragons with her than marry her. Or any other women, for that matter."
Prince Trip stuck his face in an architectural diagram to hide his blush. "Oh."
King Jonathan found himself blushing, wriggling, and trying hard not to notice Sir Malcolm's huge sword. "So, um, Sir Malcolm…you were saying…?" He glanced quickly at a mirror, suddenly possessed with an urge to check his hair, and he leaned back against his throne, wondering why he was now worried about which angle to tilt his head and whether the wrong angle would make his kingly and substantial nose look far too large.
"That would be rather awkward for me, your majesty, since strictly speaking, I really can't tell you who I intend to marry."
"Why not?"
"Because it would be highly improper for me to say or do anything which would give the appearance of telling you what you're to do, sire. Therefore, I can't actually pick anyone I want."
King Jonathan deliberated for a moment. "Well, if you can't pick, you'd have to waive your right to exercise the third clause. And that would mean—all right, Sir Malcolm, I'll simply have to order you to marry me. That's all there is to it."
Sir Malcolm coughed back a chuckle. "Very well, sire, I can't exactly disobey a direct order from the King, can I?"
And that, children, is the story I promised you of King Jonathan the Explorer, who was not only very tall, but also wasn't stupid. Princess Hoshi and Liz lived happily and grew many exotic plants, some of which were actually not eaten by the doctor's pet bat, on Princess Hoshi's farmland. And Sir Malcolm and Princess Hoshi really did kill a great many more disgusting monsters when Princess Hoshi wasn't busy learning something or other. The king lived happily ever after with the very good-looking Sir Malcolm, and with Porthos the Beagle, and with his best friend Prince Trip and his faithful squire Sir Travis the Silent, of whom no other words were ever recorded.
And no, the king never was able to watch Sir Malcolm play with his sword without having to blush. But that's another story, and it's getting late.
No, there are no monsters under your beds, children. I just told you what happened to all the monsters. Sir Malcolm and Princess Hoshi killed them all, and then Sir Malcolm and King Jonathan went off together hand in hand, exploring back in the Mysterious Mountains. Now, shoo, and go to bed. This old lady's tired, isn't she, Hoshi?
end